Paul was overwhelmed, not just by the enormous, adorable billboard-scaled faces cheesing off at him, but also by the team of hands and fingers snaking over his body, with his younger sister’s clammy fist still clamped around his side, and his older sister’s elegant digits petting and primping the dress itself, as if they were getting him ready to attend that ball Zoey joked about.
“Well, dear,” Scarlet said, drawing a deep breath, her hand over her heart. Apparently having recovered sufficiently, she leaned forward on the side of the bed, and nodded with approval at the sight of her daughters manhandling her cross-dressing son. “I think this is a fitting punishment, indeed. Very good choice, Tory.”
“Thanks, Mom!”
“So what’s gonna happen to him now?” Zoey asked with a ravenous smile and bright eyes. Her tongue batted thoughtfully at the corner of her lip. Judging by that wild expression, Paul was probably most afraid to hear his younger sister’s suggestions about what would become of him next. “Where are we gonna keep him?”
“Yeah, I don’t think he’ll be tall enough to climb into his own bed anymore,” Tory snickered. “Or use a toilet. Or a sink. Or a shower. Or a doorknob. Or anything, actually.”
“Tory got to contribute a good idea,” Scarlet said, looking to her youngest. “Why don’t you give it a try now, darling?”
Of course.
“Hmm…” Zoey murmured. She shifted her grip on her eight-inch brother, fastening her free hand in a fist around his leg, then slid the opposite appendage down to take hold of his other limb, until she was gripping the boy like an awkward pair of garden shears. Again, Paul was troubled by the dangerous proximity of his sister’s curled thumbs to his erection, but still the dress ironically managed to save him by poofing too large for his prick to be seen when ruffled up. “Hey… I just remembered… that old dollhouse, in my closet. I haven’t played with it in a super-long time, but it might be the perfect thing for…”
Tory’s smile spread back into a devilish smirk. She giggled, and even patted her sister on the back, then snared eye contact with Paul. Her gaze held so much malicious promise, it made the boy cringe even more than having his younger sister’s colossal fingers within a twitch of brushing his puny boner.
“Z, that’s the best idea you’ve ever come up with,” Tory congratulated. She stood up, careful to keep her cherry-red gown in modest array, though her petticoats briefly kicked up from the bottom in her haste to enact the plan. “C’mon, let’s get it out and set up for him!”
“Okay!” Zoey, obviously almost as eager to have her older sister’s approval as she was to turn her brother into a personal doll, did the same with far less grace, and hopped to her feet. The sisters giddily scampered to the bedroom across the hall. Meanwhile, Paul was jostled roughly the entire way, as his little sister had seemingly forgotten about his fragility. Her fists tightened around his legs, and he bumped and bounced against the nearby warm wall of Zoey’s dress, where it met her waist and flowed out into a dizzying violet skirt. He could practically hear the gurgles in her stomach rising up and turning into anticipatory laughter.
In Zoey’s bedroom, Tory was already busy casting objects aside in a mad rush to find Paul’s chosen destination. Parked against the back wall of the closet was the elaborate and likely expensive dollhouse Zoey used to play with as a young child. Tory waved her fingers, causing the massive plastic plaything to slide out into the center of the space. With two stories and a dozen rooms, complete with hinged walls for ease of accessing the fully-decorated interior, the place was in fact scaled perfectly to a doll of Paul’s new eight-inch size.
“Wow, Paul. Would you look at all this. Aren’t you lucky?” Tory taunted.
“I always kept it really nice!” Zoey announced. Both sisters seated themselves on the floor again in front of the opened dollhouse.
Despite the trouble he was in, Paul couldn’t help but let some of the weight off his shoulders in relief. He’d been expecting to be turned into a tortoise when he was caught. Granted, he had been found red-handed in his sister’s dress, which was an emotional malady that wasn’t going to be healed any time soon, but there were worse fates, he decided, than what was seemingly coming. Humiliating, yes. Degrading, yes. But not painful or frightening. Maybe they’d just stick him in the dollhouse as a form of time-out, and he’d have an hour to settle himself mentally and sexually until he could come up with a good excuse for his whacky behavior?
“Welcome to your new home. For now, anyway,” Tory declared. “Since you’re too small to be of any help around the regular-people house, you’ll just have to settle for keeping this one nice and spotless. In fact, that sounds like the best way to teach you a lesson.”
Paul nodded hesitantly. He could do that.
“We won’t let you get lonely in there, though, Paul,” Zoey added with a chuckle. She smoothed down his hair again, inadvertently craning her brother’s neck backward in the process from her enthusiasm. “You’ll get some playtime, too, and I have lots of doll dresses you can pick from, so you don’t have to keep using Tory’s!”
Scarlet entered the room, standing behind her crouching daughters with her arms crossed and a look of stern disappointment on her face. This countenance was perhaps the most damning of the three, and made it impossible for Paul to look his parent in the face. He’d really screwed the pooch, harsh punishment or not.
“You girls seem to have your brother’s disciplinary rewards well in-hand,” Scarlet said.
“Literally,” Tory snickered.
“I think it will be good practice for you to keep the inside of your sister’s dollhouse clean, my little dear,” Scarlet said, addressing her son now. “Perhaps once this is over, you’ll become a more productive member of the household.”
“When it’s over?” Zoey repeated, obviously let down by this eventuality. Her fingers gave Paul’s legs another squeeze.
“Well, we don’t want Paul to feel too hopeless, or he may begin to slack in his work, and then he’d no good to anybody. Still, a little hopelessness will do him wonders,” Scarlet said with uncommon coldness that made Paul shiver despite the warmth of his sister’s hands. “You know. For building character. And judging by the activities you occupy yourself with when we’re not in the house, Paul, I’d say you have quite a lot of character-building to do.”
The family joined in raucous laughter, while Paul only withered in shame. Hanging his head, the shrunken boy was relieved to notice at that his erection had disappeared. Thank heavens for small blessings. Now all he had to do was keep a dollhouse clean while his family convinced themselves he was a deviant cross-dressing sissy. And really, he wasn’t necessarily sure he wasn’t.
“I love it!” Tory said.
“If he builds his character, he won’t start building himself bigger again, will he?” Zoey asked with some obvious anxiety. “Cuz I like him small a lot better.”
“That settles it!” Scarlet proclaimed, a finger raised in the air. “A compromise. Paul, dear? You have one week to prove to us that you deserve to return to your former size. Seven days inside that house, when you will be expected to make yourself the world’s most efficient maid. At the end of that time, if the house is as beautiful as it could possibly be, then we’ll grow you back. Do you understand?”
Gulping, Paul dared look up at the looming faces again. Seven days? Or what? “Yes, Mom.”
“Hmmm… something’s not quite right yet,” Tory said, tapping her chin. “Oh! I know. Z, where are those other doll clothes?”
Paul’s stomach revolved.
Once the location was pointed out, the elder sister retrieved the box of lacy goods from the closet, and commenced rooting through the stack. From his double-fisted perch, Paul blanched at the sight of the toy wardrobe. Zoey wasn’t lying when she said she had a lot of options for him.
“Let’s see, let’s see…” Tory hummed as she scooped through the swaths of delicate little garments. She flicked aside a cocktail dress, an astronaut suit, a bikini, and a Victorian gown, until at last her eyes lit up at something Paul couldn’t see from his vantage in Zoey’s hands. When Tory’s hand rose up from the box again, though, with her thumb and index pinched around the hem of her find, the whole room reacted appropriately. Which was to say that Scarlet and Zoey cheered and Paul’s heart sunk at the sight of a frilly black-and-white French maid’s uniform dangling from his older sister’s fingers.
“Don’t just sit there, Z,” Tory muttered. She snapped her fingers, causing the stolen teal dress to inflate ever so slightly in size, until it was no longer tight as an iron lung, but more like floppy pajamas. “Get this dolly’s clothes off so we can make him a real maid!”
Paul’s pulse raced, and his whole body went rigid, perhaps in pre-emptive defense, despite knowing the combined might of his panicked body would be no match for his eager little sister’s greedy fingers. He wanted to cry out in protest, maybe even plead with his younger sibling, who at this moment seemed the most compassionate of the three, but it was obvious his family’s mind was made up. To resist would just prolong the inevitable, and likely stack the stakes of his punishment even higher.
Only too thrilled to comply with Tory’s command, Zoey kept one hand latched around Paul’s leg, while the other pinched the scruff of the dress. She plucked in a circle from shoulder to shoulder, as if pulling petals off a sunflower. Acting with surprising delicacy given their difference in scale, she worked the garment up the boy’s torso, forcing his arms up in the air. Then, with some finagling from under the train, she hiked the skirts up and bunched them around his upper body, momentarily drowning the boy in fluff while she slid the midsection up. Her molesting fingers touched and bopped on every square inch of his body in the effort to find necessary leverage to undress him.